


Untitled Joey

by Vera



Category: NSYNC
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-04-03
Updated: 2004-04-03
Packaged: 2017-10-02 05:41:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vera/pseuds/Vera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Oh my God! You slut! On the first date!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untitled Joey

**Author's Note:**

> Joey! This story was written for the [Joey Slashficathon](http://www.livejournal.com/users/sathinks/105591.html), for sinden.

"Chris."

He rolled away from the stick poking him in his side. His groundsheet was so very soft and thick, he didn't understand where the stick was coming from, but it was hard and pokey. Damn stick.

"Chris. Chris!"

How come the stick was moving? Clarity arrived abruptly. He sat up fast, expecting to see Night of the Living Dead zombies looming over him.

"Ow!"

"Fuck!"

His head hurt a lot, apparently so did Joey's. Skull to skull collision will do that. He was in bed, not camping. The stick was Joey's way too pointy finger and Joey was looming over his bed in the dark, his edges picked out in the faint light from the bedroom doorway.

"What the fuck, Joey?"

"Shhh!" Trying get a hand over his mouth, Joey managed to poke Chris in the cheek, narrowly missing his eye. "You'll wake Lance."

"Too late, assholes."

"You kiss your mother with that mouth, Bass?" Leaning sideways, he could see past Joey. Lance had a death grip on his pillow and if posture could speak, his back would be saying, well, it would be saying what he was saying:

"Shut the fuck up or take it the fuck outside."

"What he says, Joey. Go away." Chris flopped down and closed his eyes. Lack of movement told him Joey hadn't gone away. He wasn't going to get up. It was some stupid time of night. He knew that, even though he hadn't looked at his clock, because he'd gone to bed at an only marginally less stupid time of night. As they had to get up at the ass crack of dawn and Lance wasn't up, then it had to still be sleep time. Joey wasn't going to interrupt his sleep time. No, not even Joey, bare arms outlined in light from the hallway, was going to get him out of bed. Keep him in bed, maybe. He tried to will the thought and the headache away.

"Chris," Joey whispered, hot breath in his ear, "please." A long-fingered, sweaty-palmed hand wrapped around his biceps, tugging. His skin prickled from his shoulder all the way down his torso. Sitting up with more care than last time, he shoved Joey back so he could get out of bed. The room tilted a little, he blinked into the dark trying to feel upright. Though he'd only had a few beers, exhaustion told on his stamina and he felt detached from himself. Though that could also have been the recent head injury.

He stomped past Joey as quietly as he could. Lance appeared to by shy and unassuming, but he was sharp, swift and smiling when it came to dealing out vengeance.

Still stuffy from being shut up all day, the air in the house seemed leeched of oxygen and thickly humid, an atmosphere that clung to his skin and made it seem hard to breathe. Adjusting his shorts, he headed for the kitchen and water.

Typical that after being so insistent, Joey stood in the kitchen doorway and silently watched him drink. He looked dressed up in a dressed down way, jeans and muscle tee and sneakers, but obviously the ones he wore out, not the ones he wore for watching tv and hanging out at home. Something about the way the jeans clung to his thighs, the soft cotton of the t shirt marking each dip and curve of his chest - it all said out for a good time. His face, on the other hand, said uncertainty, his brown eyes fixed, puppy-like, on Chris. His hands in his back pockets stretched the t shirt thinner over his fine chest and pulled his jeans tighter around his groin. Not noticing, Chris thought, closing his eyes and finishing his glass of water.

"Outside is cooler," he said, leading the way through the back door to the porch. A ratty old sofa, made rattier by regular contact with a houseful of young men, slouched against the back wall. Chris parked himself in one corner, the grubby upholstery rough on his bare back, but night-cool as well.

Joey slouched through the doorway, face in shadow, streetlight illuminating the lower half of his body, still as tightly jeaned and well made as he had been indoors.

"You dragged me out of bed, dude. Have a good reason or suffer the wrath of Kirkpatrick. Fucking hurry up and sit down and tell uncle Chris why you woke him up as ass o'clock. What can't wait till after breakfast?"

Folding his long body onto the other end of the couch, Joey's hands twitched together, then apart, then settled on his thighs. He tried looking everywhere but at Chris.

"I kissed a guy."

"Congratulations? And I'm awake for this announcement because?" _Fucking hell._

"Chris."

"Oh my God! You slut! On the first date!" Chris slapped his hands to his cheeks and hoped it would drive the images from his head.

"Chris!"

"So what, Joe, so what? That's it? Why are you telling me?"

"Because. Because you know. Because you've --"

"Kissed guys too?"

Joey had the grace to look abashed. "Yeah." His restless fingers had tugged little peaks in the fabric of his jeans.

"I doesn't mean you're gay. Kissing doesn't mean you're gay."

"I might also," Joey fidgeted in his corner of the couch, "have got a blow job. From the guy."

When Chris stopped laughing he said, "Baby, that doesn't make you gay, that just makes you a guy. Hey," he nudged Joey's thigh with his foot, "it's just a blow job, it doesn't mean anything. The Fatone masculinity is intact. Dancing with four other guys is way more gay than standing still while someone sucks your dick."

Joey snorted and, finally, looked straight at Chris. His eyes were dark, edged with smudged eyeliner. Chris suppressed the urge to lick his temples, to reach out and touch his thumbs to Joey's eyelids, smudging more. Joey's lips were red - they were always that red - Chris couldn't help noticing it now, wondering what he was like, the guy Joey kissed, the guy that blew him. So he was watching Joey's lips when his tongue flicked out and licked his lower lip. He was watching Joey's slick, red lips when Joey said, "The thing is, I might have done him, too."

All the air rushed out of him, all his blood went south, and he couldn't see anything except Joey's mouth, his red, dick-sucking mouth.

"Chris?"

"Uh, yeah. That would be gay. That would be pretty gay," Chris managed. Joey licked his lips again and he thought, maybe, he should ask Joey to stop doing that. "So, great. Thanks for the heads up. I'll just go back to bed, lots of dancing tomorrow and I want to get some sleep. Yeah, don't be too traumatized, I'm sure it's just a phase you're going through. Plenty of hot chicks in Orlando to get you back on track. Yeah, goodnight."

"Chris." Joey was closer than he'd looked a moment ago. Joey was right up against him and Chris was bent back across the side of the couch, trying both to get away and to stay, warmly, magically, right where he was, inches from being kissed. This close, with Joey's lips moving across his jaw, he could smell sweat, hair product and the musty makeup scent of eyeliner. His vision was a little blurred, myopia and passion cooperating to shake his focus while Joey bit and licked and held him down. So, he thought, this is how he does it. Smooth, Fatone.

"This is not a good -," he started to say, before stopped by a kiss, then another until he was kissing back and all thoughts of being good were chased from his mind by the feel of Joey's arms under his hands, Joey's hint of stubble against his cheek, Joey's teeth and tongue and the blaze of heat from his close, close body.

A little while later, and somewhat pleasantly worse for wear, he thought _fucking April first_.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Untitled (The Shame on Me Mix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/86456) by [Erika (Aeiouna)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeiouna/pseuds/Erika)




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